She swallowed, and a sound intruded. Glancing up, she saw Maxim looking at her. How did he know? How long has he been watching me?

  “Pip?” He reached toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  “This…” she stumbled over the word. “It was delivered, and I… He called me Phillipa. No one except Mother and Roger calls me that. It’s from him.” The word was imbued with her emotional distress.

  “Do you… Should you open it?” He stepped closer.

  “I…” Now she choked. “I don’t want to. I’m frightened, Maxim.”

  He grunted and took the parcel from her hands. “I’ll open it.”

  “No,” she shrieked. “Call Niamh and Simon. We need witnesses and someone who can handle whatever is inside.”

  He moved past her and slid the package onto a tiny table then returned, winding his arms around her. She felt steadied then. Like he was channelling his own balance into her, bolstering her for whatever it was that came next.

  “I’ll call them in a moment. Just close your eyes, Pip. Let me hold you.”

  Now she breathed in, soaking up his nearness, his warmth, and letting the essence of him calm her from the precipice. She sank into him, absorbing him until once more the wild thud of her heart slowed. “I… I’m sorry, Maxim. I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

  He tugged away a little so he could look down at her. “You’re frightened, and I understand that. But you don’t have to do this by yourself. I… Let me help you.” There was an intensity in his gaze, and she felt strong and womanly at the same time.

  “I…” These unfamiliar emotions gathered inside her. She didn’t want to fight it, so she reached up and cupped his cheek. “Thank you, Maxim.” Her voice sounded husky, and she sighed. “We should ring them. Get this over with.”

  He nodded and stepped away, and the loss of his heat and support left her staggering. He swooped back, gripping her shoulders. “You should sit. Where is Peter?” He glanced around.

  “He went for a walk some time ago. I…” She shrugged and looked out, noting that the first tendrils of evening were closing in. “I don’t know where he went.”

  Maxim frowned. “You have a phone? Call him?”

  She nodded and reached into her pocket for the tiny phone and pressed the keys to dial him. It rang once, then again.

  Her heartrate was spiking now, because, what if Roger had somehow got hold of Peter? She lifted her eyes to Maxim, but before she could speak, Peter came bounding up the steps. “I was coming. What’s up?” He must have noticed her distress then, how could he not? “What’s happened?”

  She indicated to the box. “I received this. I think it’s from Roger.” She pointed to the address tag. “Look at the name.”

  Peter glanced at the lid, and he paled, his face pasty in the low light. “How? I was sure I covered our escape. I covered the camera so he wouldn’t see us leaving.”

  “We need to ring Simon,” reminded Maxim, and she nodded in agreement.

  Maxim stood and moved to the end of the small verandah and made the call, and Pippa made a conscious decision not to listen. Not because she wanted to hide from the truth—after all, there was no escaping the presence of the box—but because she needed to calm herself. In her experience, stressful situations never ended well. So, she focussed on her breathing, the rising and falling of her chest, eyes half-closed. By the time she’d reached a state that she considered workable, Maxim had returned, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “Are you well?” he enquired.

  “I needed to calm down. Get some kind of balance in myself,” Pippa answered and watched him nod.

  “They are on their way over, and have alerted friends of ours, David and Genny. She’s a police officer and a lycan-leprechaun hybrid. David was a Yeux Secondes of a house until he chose to step away. He’s also a lycan.” Maxim rolled the explanation off, but she reeled at this knowledge. Hybrids? Yeux Secondes?

  “I… I didn’t know there could be hybrids, but I know about the Yeux Secondes. That they are the human heads of the vampire houses and have a lot of power. How did you meet them?”

  He smiled. “Through Niamh and Simon. They are members of the pack but have very dangerous and powerful allies. They’ll help us, Pip.” Now Maxim squatted down. “You will not have to face this by yourself. I am here.”

  Inside her, the knot she hadn’t even known existed started to unravel. “Why?” she whispered.

  Maxim sighed and rose from his haunches, shaking his head. “Not now, Pip.” He nodded in the direction of Peter who was watching them with intensity in his eyes.

  “Pippa?” Peter asked, and she wasn’t sure quite what he needed to know. What was going on? Who Maxim was talking about, or what she and Maxim were not discussing? Pick your poison! The hysterical thought died away as she considered the facts as she knew them.

  Maxim wanted to scream. He wanted to fold his arms around Pippa, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have the right. Nothing between them had been said or agreed. Besides, with Peter watching them, he had no intention of raising it with Pippa. Not until they could talk, and he could be assured that she had some inkling of the volatile emotions roiling inside him.

  So instead, he paced and waited for Niamh and Simon to arrive, which they did, speeding up the road, jumping from their vehicle, though not without Maxim noting the greater care Simon took with her. His mind latched on, summed it up, and questions rose. But he didn’t give voice to them; they’d tell him soon enough if there was something to share.

  The couple hurried up the path as he waited impatiently. “Okay, Maxim, so what’s going on?”

  Pippa pulled herself together and rose from the seat. “I got a delivery. Addressed to Phillipa. No one calls me that. I… I hate that name. Only Roger and Mother call me that. I was… Maxim came after I received it. Then Peter came back. I haven’t opened it. I wasn’t…” She bit her lip. “I wasn’t game. He’s ugly, Simon. Inside, he’s an animal… Less than an animal!”

  He held out his hand. “Let me open it.”

  Niamh hovered and Maxim watched as Simon retrieved a pen knife from his pocket. “Should you call someone? Ensure there’s no poison or⁠—”

  Simon shook his head. “It shouldn’t affect me. But Niamh, you, Maxim, Peter, and Pip should move away, just in case.”

  Maxim didn’t like the instruction, but he followed it anyway and slid an arm around both the women, holding them close in case something awful was inside.

  Simon took his time, levering up the tape holding the package closed, then with cautious nudges slid the cover off. “Shit!” The epithet erupted. “Fucking hell.” Simon raised his head to glare out into the darkness. “We need help.”

  Maxim stepped closer. “What?”

  Simon gripped the item in the box and pulled it out gingerly with two fingers. It was a photo of Maxim and Pippa, followed by another of Pippa, Maxim, and Peter. “Somehow they know where you are and who you’re mixing with.” Simon sighed, the sound long and heavy. “We need⁠—”

  “I’ve already contacted James Morrow. I was meeting him tomorrow at your house,” Maxim interrupted.

  “Were you?” Simon gazed at him with a question in his eyes. “About?”

  “Pippa wanted to know about her father. I merely suggest that there are things Morrow might look into for me.”

  He heard the indrawn breath behind him. “Maxim? Why? I mean— You were going to wait.”

  His guts froze at telling her what he’d done, but even so, he turned and reached out to Pippa. “You’re scared, Pippa. You need to know how to protect yourself, and that means finding out who and what you are. Morrow isn’t a man who would use that information against you. He’s… I trust him to find out and keep your secrets.” He shrugged. She might yet see that as a crossing of the line, he knew, but he hoped she’d understand and forgive him.

  “I think we’re going to need more than Morrow, though that’s a start,” Simon said and shook his head. “But apart from that, either Roger has someone here, or he’s managed to get near Pippa and Peter. That’s not acceptable, so I’ll make a few calls, ramp up the security. Maxim⁠—”

  “They can stay with me. I know how to protect myself,” he interjected.

  Simon’s mouth opened and closed, but Maxim felt the waves of tension radiating from Pippa. He wanted to pull her close. Wanted to soothe her fears, but he knew danger couldn’t be banished with a word and a wish.

  “You promised me, Maxim.” Her words cut deep, like a knife through butter.

  “I did. But I don’t regret talking to Morrow. I only want to help you.”

  “Hey, Maxim! We don’t need a babysitter.” Peter’s voice cut through the air.

  Simon whirled and pinned Peter with a glare. “The danger is clear, and we can’t allow your stepfather to just enter our town. It’s supposed to be a safe zone for others.”

  Maxim grunted. “If he’s as dangerous as Pippa believes, he’ll find a way to you both.”

  Niamh cleared her throat. “Maybe we should look to embed them in one of the nests? At least for the next little while, until we can be sure what we’re dealing with? David might…”

  Simon sighed. “You could be right. If these photos are legitimate, he’s already breached our safety protocols.” He stalked away, tapping the phone, Maxim assumed to call David, a man Maxim had met during the frantic search for Niamh all those months ago.

  Niamh reached out and touched Pippa’s hand, startling the younger woman. “You should pack a bag, each of you. That includes you, Maxim, since you feature in the photos.”

  He drew himself up to his full height, and she smiled wryly. “I have commitments⁠—”

  “Yes, you do. But right now, it’s better if you go with Peter and Pip. I’ll make your explanations with the doctor, and everyone will get through this, then you can come home and take up your role again.”

  He simply stared at her.

  “Maxim, it’s the only outcome that will work for now. If Roger comes looking, he might go to the clinic. The danger to your patients can’t be overstated. Please. For me,” Niamh entreated as he frowned in frustration then shoved his hand into his hair.

  “If that is your will, Niamh.” He didn’t like it, but he owed her much, and he wouldn’t jeopardise those using the health clinic or the doctor. Turning to Pip and Peter, he growled, “Get what you need and join me at my house. Pack as light as you can.”

  Pippa’s eyes glittered with frustration. “But I don’t want⁠—”

  “Your agreement with our pack was if we needed to move you, you’d do so. Please, Pippa. Don’t make this difficult,” Simon said.

  Maxim knew very well Simon didn’t ask for this loyalty just because he could. Every request the man had made had always been underpinned with what was best for the pack and those in his sphere of authority. He took his position as the Lord very seriously. The only time his personal need trumped those of the pack was when Niamh was involved.

  “Something I can understand,” Maxim muttered.

  “Pardon?” queried Simon.

  Maxim sighed internally. “I am thinking out loud.”

  Niamh cast him a look that said she wanted to know what about. He ignored that and glanced at the door as Pippa and Peter disappeared inside.

  Once Maxim was sure they were out of earshot, he turned to pin Simon with a glare. “Now, what is the plan?”

  Simon shifted. “I’m going to get you all settled in a nest, probably with Celina and Javed. Her magic is deep and still growing, but as a pair, they are formidable.”

  He remembered the witch and her life partner vampire, and the new nest which was bolstered by those who’d sought a haven after the attacks of a rogue vampire, who’d killed so many worldwide in a desperate push to dominate the world.

  “Why?” He couldn’t contain the question. “Why should we move to a vampire nest?”

  “Because whatever Roger is, we need to ensure he can’t get to any of you,” Simon replied. “Between the vampires and witches, along with the weres protecting the pack, and other kinds of magic who protect the nest, we may be able to buy enough time to find out what we don’t know. We might find a way to defuse his power so he can be overcome. And it might also give both Pippa and Peter a safe place to let their magic—and yes, I’m sure they both have some—show itself.” Simon inhaled, nostrils flaring. “I feel it, and it’s more than a simple tingle of magic, they both have a deep well, but they’ve kept it leashed, likely unconsciously. That’s why finding out who their father is and what he was will be important.”

  Niamh frowned. “I don’t feel magic of any kind… Maxim?”

  Maxim grunted and thought back to times he’d felt flashes of well-concealed power. There’d been a flicker here and there, usually when Pippa was busy in the kitchen, but he didn’t recognise it as anything he’d ever come across before. “I don’t know. It feels…” He tried to think of the words to explain what he was sure of. “There’s something, and she… In the kitchen, I’ve felt it.”

  Simon’s forehead and nose wrinkled up. “The kitchen?”

  Maxim shrugged. “That’s all I know.”

  Simon nodded. “Okay, that doesn’t ring any bells for me, but we can work on it. Now, head on home and we’ll get them over to you as soon as possible. However, get your things organised, because once we have an agreement from Javed and Celina, I want to be moving you.”

  “Today?” queried Maxim, feeling unbalanced.

  “Maybe. Possibly not. I’ll have more people watching, just to ensure your safety for the time being,” Simon offered. “But for now, Niamh and I have an appointment elsewhere.” Simon smiled. “All will be well once we have the information to deal with Roger.”

  Maxim wasn’t so sure, based on the little Pippa had disclosed so far about living with Roger, and when she’d spoken, he couldn’t ignore the very real taste of her fear as it filled the air. But he didn’t argue. After all, he was only a fairy, and one who had barely embraced the abilities that came with his species.

  “I’ll message Morrow,” Simon said. “We can change the arrangements for meeting with him once we know where you’ll all be.”

  The three of them went in their requisite directions, Maxim considering the little they’d all learned. Not that it was much. And as he entered his house, he couldn’t help but feel dissatisfaction that once again, his life was out of his control.

  Chapter Nine

  Pippa stalked around the bedroom, blood thrumming in her veins. She felt it, and tried to tamp down the fury that was growing inside her. She’d told Maxim everything she’d known, sure he’d keep her confidence. He promised to wait until she was ready before contacting anyone. “And he lied.” She bit the words out as she tugged dresser drawers open and yanked out the clothing inside before thrusting it into her bag that was laying open on the bed. “I despise lying!”

  But his explanation seemed plausible. Believable, and one part of her brain said she’d asked him to keep to himself something that might give them an edge in beating Roger. She felt anger, yes, but also a strange sense that he’d made the right decision. Her brain was knotted with this weird internal tussle that left her just as confused as before.

  Bit by bit, she emptied the drawers and the robe before stalking to the bathroom and scooping up toiletries.

  When she returned, she found Peter standing at the door, watching her, his eyes dark. She pushed past him, entered the bedroom, and dumped the items in her hands on the bed.

  “What’s your problem, Pip?”

  She whirled, faced him. “He lied to me.” The words were spat at her brother, and his eyelids drooped. A sure sign he was listening and weighing up what she said.

  “Perhaps he did, but it was with the best of intentions. He doesn’t want to control us, not like Roger did.”

  But the words only inflamed the fury she fought against. “I don’t care. I showed him the photo. Told him what I knew, shared how I was scared.” Her heart hammered.

  “When?”

  Peter’s question caught her off guard. “What?”

  “When did you tell him this?”

  Her fingers lodged in her hair, and she tugged. “A few days ago.”

  “You didn’t tell me that you spoke with him.” Peter’s tone was reasonable, but it stopped her in her tracks.

  “I needed to talk and didn’t want to upset you,” she answered, but she avoided his gaze. She should have told her brother, though it felt strangely wrong to disclose what she knew and felt, what she and Maxim had discussed.

  “But you hid that from me, Pip. You didn’t tell me you spoke with him. Did you leave the house? Did you consciously plan it?” His words were calm, but the impact of them drove deep.

  “I… I did what I needed to,” she answered.

  “I think if you asked Maxim, he’d pretty much say the same, sis. Maybe there was a reason he didn’t tell you. Maybe he just wanted to help, like he says. Maybe it’s time we stop putting up walls and ask others to help us.” Peter leaned against the doorframe and watched her. “We’ve been alone a long time. Now Simon and Niamh have offered us help. Yes, it was scary, and yes, we had to take a chance, but they both vouched for Maxim, so maybe we should trust him too.”

  “He should have asked if he could talk to this man!” she shrieked, and Peter’s eyes closed against the sound.

  “Yes, he should have. But it’s done, so we accept the help. Pip, we can’t hide forever.” Peter opened his eyes. “But tell me, why are you upset? Is it because he took the plunge and asked? Or is it because of something more?”

  The words pulled her up short. “What do you mean?”

  He smiled, but while the corners of his mouth raised, in his eyes she detected a sadness. “You’ve always trusted me, and me only. There’ve been other men, I’ve seen them interested in you, but you’ve kept a wide berth, because of Roger but also you don’t trust easily. With Maxim, you sort of clicked. Is it because it’s him that you’re so hurt and irritated?”

  She blinked. “I…” But when she considered what he said, there was no clear answer. Was it because she’d trusted him? Or more? “Not now, Peter,” she croaked. Picking up the toiletries from the bed, she placed them inside her bag. “We should hurry, I guess,” she said and yanked on the zipper of her suitcase.